A Half-remembered Memory
by LuckyPenny123
Summary: On a spring evening in 1981 Jean Granger saw Lily Evans. It wasn't a big event, it wasn't even memorable but it happened and it was real and it was written...


**This is an idea I've had floating around for a while, hope you like it? Let me know? And if you spot any mistakes please do tell!**

**Disclaimer: I am not, contrary to popular belief, JK Rowling**

A Half-Remembered Memory

It was one of those beautiful spring evenings; the ones that held the promise of summer, of warmth and long days and weak English sun. 'It was, or is', Jean Granger mused to herself as she pushed an old pram down the street, 'the perfect night for a quiet stroll'. Her day had been busy, and that was to say the least. In fact, it was only now that she had a moment to finally unwind and enjoy the peacefulness that came from being in Godric's Hollow, a small village nestled in the heart of the English countryside.

Every couple of months, Jean Granger and her husband, William, would come to stay with his parents. It was a chance for baby Hermione, just nearing a year, to spend time with her grandparents and for her grandparents to admire their only grandchild. It was also a chance to escape the mad rush of London life and enjoy a weekend away from the constantly ringing phone and never ending line of patients. It was, however, rather unexpectedly absolutely exhausting for Jean as her mother-in-law had her rushing around the cottage all day in that way mother-in-laws will always order around their daughter-in-laws. 'Some things will never change,' Jean thought, 'no matter how hard we try to please...'

Right now, however, was a brief respite and Jean fully intended to use every moment of it. The absence of her parent-in-laws to a friend's dinner was a welcome relief and Jean fully intended to make the most of it; hence the pram, evening and mild spring air. Evening was slowly approaching and, with it, lights flickered on in the passing houses. The sound of a TV spilt out on to the street; from another house, a muffled laugh and the sound of tinkling cutlery. Jean sighed and let her eyes wander; the writer in her coming out as she glanced into people's front rooms and started making up stories in her head.

In the pram, Hermione stirred and began to fuss, her small whimpers immediately reaching Jean's ears and causing her to stop the pram and rescue her small daughter from the twisted blankets inside. Rocking her gently in her arms, Jean allowed her eyes to wander once again, her curiosity getting the better of her as she surveyed the rapidly darkening street.

Directly in front of her stood a small cottage; its walls covered with honeysuckle and windows spilling a warm golden light onto the street. Jean could see directly in to a small kitchen. The table surrounded by a messy haired baby boy, a woman with red hair and four young men. As she watched, the red head tipped her head back and laughed, standing up and dropping a kiss on to the messy haired man sitting to her right and exiting the room. With her gone, a man with long black hair jumped to his feet and grabbed the baby. His laughing voice slipped out of the open window to Jean's ears as he swore he was going to "steal the baby and drop him out of the window if Prong's wife didn't bring the food this bleeding instant". As there were the remains of a rather large feast on the table, Jean couldn't quite understand the urgency but was suitably worried as the man held the baby above his head and threw him up in the air. At the table, the messy haired man who Jean assumed to be the father laughed helplessly, his two friends grinning and shaking their heads. At that exact moment, the red haired lady walked back in, carrying a large brown photo album in one hand and a blanket in the other. She stopped short in the doorway, her pretty features rapidly contorting into a frown. This time, Jean didn't need the open window to hear what was being said; the girl's voice echoed dangerously out into the night.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK, PUT MY SON DOWN THIS INSTANT"

In a frenzy of laughing, the dark haired man shouted to his friend and chucked the baby across the room. Jean felt her own heart stop as the little boy soared through the air only to land safely in his father's arms. The red haired lady went, justifiably, mental; shoving the man who had chucked the boy and declaring that there was "no trifle for him". Immediately, the man, Sirius, turned completely sombre, suddenly making an effort to help tidy up and convince the lady that it was "an honest mistake". Jean couldn't help the corner of her lips twitch up as she watched him run around the room, pulling all manners of silly faces, begging on his knees and trying to kiss the girl's feet. Eventually, it seemed she'd had enough. Roughly pulling him up from the floor she shoved him on to a chair and extracted her son from her husband's arms. The faint sound of her voice whispered out of the window and Jean strained closer to listen.

"James, get the trifle out of the fridge, Remus, will you pick up the bowls. You-" She said, pointing to Sirius, "are staying right there. I am not having you ruin this dinner any more than you have. Instead, you are going to hold your godson and sit still. And no more funny business or there's no trifle for you. Understand?" Sirius visibly gulped and nodded and Jean smiled, reminded of similar conversations with her brother and his friends.

The messy haired man called from his spot next to the fridge and the lady made her way to the window where, Jean realised, the sink was situated. She stood staring out and Jean immediately turned away, trying to look like she hadn't just spent the last fifteen minutes staring into a complete stranger's house.

Inside the house Lily Evans looked out at the muggle holding the small girl and lifted up her hand, knowing they couldn't see her but wanting to wave anyway. With a small giggle, her attention was quickly diverted as her husband grabbed her from behind and proceeded to pull her to the table.

Outside and unnoticed, the baby girl waved a podgy hand in the direction of the glowing cottage window as her mother placed her back in the pram. Jean Granger may have forgotten why she had been staring at a dilapidated house for fifteen minutes but Hermione, just a baby, had seen everything.

Eleven years later and a bright, loud train platform had Jean gaping like a fish out of water. But what was perhaps more strange was the niggling feeling of a half remembered memory as she watched a boy with messy hair and glasses make his way on to the Hogwarts Express.


End file.
